


Backslide

by RedLeaderfic



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Concussions, Dean's a thief, Hurt/Comfort, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/pseuds/RedLeaderfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Seth fall into old patterns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backslide

**Author's Note:**

> Set between Battleground and Summerslam. Remember that time Dean stole the Seth's briefcase? Let's all pretend that wasn't his first time trying that. Cool? Cool.
> 
> Thank you to apgeeksout for beta reading!

Seth blinked up at the arena lights and tried to decide if this was a concussion or not. Kinda _felt_ like a concussion. 

_The fuck did Ambrose do to me?_ He wasn't exactly sure _why_ he knew this was because of Dean, he just... _knew_. Seth was going to kill the son of a bitch when he got his hands on Dean again, Summerslam coming up or not.

Seth heard a vague hum he realized had to be the crowd noise coming back. The ringside medics buzzed around him with the urgency of people who'd been ordered to get the ring cleared before the commercial break ended. _Assholes._

Seth waved them off and managed to sit up, his stomach roiling just enough to force his head down between his knees. That let him catch a flash of movement on the Titantron; one of the camera guys noticed him look and pulled in for a tight close up.

Seth barely noticed, the camera guy, crowd and the medics all fading into annoying background noise. Seth was too busy watching the replay of Dean Ambrose cold-cocking him in the back of the head with his own briefcase.

Nothing better to clear your head than pure, sweet, bottomless rage. Seth grabbed the top rope to pull himself to his feet and held on until the arena stopped spinning. He looked over toward the ringside official who was supposed to be babysitting his case; the guy went pale when Seth caught his eye, one hand up in a _don't kill me_ gesture and the other pointing toward the back.

Seth managed to take one step toward the official before getting swarmed; after a few seconds he stopped fighting the crowd of suits and let them herd him backstage. He didn't want a repeat of the mess from Battleground. No more Dean pulling him down to his level. He was better than that. No more letting Dean Ambrose make him blow his cool on live TV.

“Heeeeey, Rollins.”

The crowd went nuts. Seth was just close enough to the tunnel that he had to crane his neck back to see the screen, but that was more than enough to see Dean filling up the screen, sitting with the case in his lap. “Think you lost something.”

Seth didn't hear the rest of the promo. Oh, he saw Dean's lips move and knew in some distant way he was going on about how this was some kind of victory instead of an assault Seth should have him _arrested for_ but Dean's actual voice blended in with his pulse jackhammering in his ears. Dean finished up whatever bullshit he was spouting and the camera pulled back to show he was sitting _on Seth's car_.

Seth watch Dean peel off in his ride and the next few minutes sped by in a blur. He felt the officials wrestle him to the ground like he'd come out of his body and the next few minutes zipped by in a barely aware blur; he didn't snap back to real awareness until he'd been parked in a chair with a trainer shining a light in his eyes trying to figure out just how much of his brain Dean had scrambled.

Trainers always asked the same questions. Seth ran through the expected answers – where he was, the date, all the normal bullshit – because _damned_ if he'd be stuck in observation while Dean was out there with his case. Chucking title belts into rivers was a long and storied wrestling tradition and Seth didn't want to give Dean enough time to decide a stolen title contract was close enough.

And anyway, Seth seemed to get the answers mostly right, so if he was concussed it must not be too bad. The ache in his head had receded from a tight band of pain to a throbbing knot on the back of his skull; his vision was clear enough and when he shoved the trainers aside to stalk off while they dithered over whether to send him for more tests “just in case” his legs hardly shook at all.

Seth didn't say a word to _anyone_. When an agent came around to say they'd rented him another car, he just nodded. Hunter even showed up to reassure him not to worry about the case, that the physical object didn't matter. Seth let that slide down his back and not just because he was 90% sure it was a bald-faced lie. Seth kept quiet because the only thing he was capable of saying was that he was going to murder Dean Ambrose with his bare hands before the sun came up and he got the feeling that if anyone realized just how serious he was they might not let him leave.

The new rental was a ten year old PT Cruiser Seth was betting had been the last car on the lot. The show was still going on and Seth knew he should stay and do the usual Authority post-show glad handing but _fuck that_. If anyone in the Authority had intended to ride with him they wouldn't have rented him another car. And if they'd especially cared what he was up to Hunter would have assigned a PA to sit on him.

Seth peeled out of the parking garage and out onto the highway, keeping Dean's stupid face front and center in his mind to distract him from those first touches of panic creeping in as the adrenaline faded .

That worked for about twenty miles. It slowly sank in as he didn't pass any familiar exits that he'd sped off in the opposite direction of the hotel and gotten himself lost in some Missouri backwater with no GPS. His phone's battery was below 20% and Seth realized he'd left his gear back at the arena. So that was a problem.

Seth took the next exit off the highway, pulled over to the side of the two lane road beyond, leaned his forehead against the cool of the steering wheel and tried to pull himself together. His head _ached_ and he hadn't eaten in twelve hours and if he didn't get that case back he was going to get fired. Dean had already poured everything he had into making sure he could never really be the Authority's Plan B, now he'd finally finished the job. Hunter had a thin skin for humiliation at the best of times; Dean Ambrose parading around with that case on TV next week would be the last straw. Seth knew it.

His text alert chimed. Seth fumbled his phone back out of his pocket, thrown first by how late it was – how was it midnight already? - and then that the text was apparently from Dean.

Dean: u think I should cash in next week? Or wait til summerslam??

Then a picture text of Dean posing with the case.

Well, only one way to answer that.

Seth: Fck off.

There was no answer and Seth had the momentary satisfaction of having shut Dean up.

No good thing lasted forever.

Dean: Hell are you? Everyones back.

The letters were blurry. Seth had to blink a few times before he could make the words come together and when he managed it he regretted bothering.

Seth: FU

Not the best comeback maybe, but the best he could manage. He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and leaned his head back, rubbing his hands over his face. So what if he was late coming back. As long as he was on time for the next show it didn't matter how late he stayed out. He didn't know what business it was of Dean's either way.

When the phone rang it felt like a power drill going straight through his temple. Actually answering the call and hearing Dean's voice on the other end of the line didn't feel any better. “Seriously, Rollins, where _are_ you? I been sitting in this lot waiting to welcome you back for hours now.”

Seth wondered what Dean was hiding in this time. The man had a sickness. “Can't you leave me alone for one night?”

“You're slurring. You drunk?”

“ _No_. What's wrong with you?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Dean's tone had shifted enough that Seth felt like he must have missed part of the conversation. “Where are you?”

Seth sighed. “Got turned around,” he said, hoping that if he played along Dean would eventually get bored. “Took some exit off 63 North and pulled over to get my bearings. Stupid rental doesn't have GPS.”

“Your phone does.”

“Drains the battery too much. It's close to dead already and I left my stuff at the arena,.I can't charge it until I get back.”

“Yeah, I noticed you did that. Why the hell are you on North? That's the opposite direction....”

“I told you, I got turned around.”

“How hard did I hit you?”

Seth pressed end on the call and turned the phone off entirely. He pressed his forehead back against the steering wheel and took some deep, calming breaths. He just needed a few minutes of quiet, then he'd get back on the highway.

***

A hard knock on the driver's side window startled Seth awake; he blinked for a few seconds trying to force his blurry vision into focus. Seth hadn't meant to fall asleep but according to the clock on the dash he'd lost almost two hours; whoever it was outside knocked again, this time shining a flashlight right into his eyes.

 _Great. Cops._ Seth rolled down the window, one hand up to shade his eyes. “Problem, officer?”

The light shut off and Seth realized it was from a phone, not a flashlight. More importantly, that wasn't a cop peering through his window. 

“You are a huge pain in the ass to find,” Dean said, leaning both arms against the car as he glanced around at the interior. “Nice ride.” Seth got _this_ close to grabbing him but all he managed was a handful of shirt as Dean wheeled back. “Easy,” Dean said, both hands up. “Not here for a fight. You don't look like you'd put up much of one right now anyway.” Dean reached inside the car and hit the unlock button, then walked around the front of the car and slid into the passenger seat.

Seth glared at him, hoping this was all a hallucination. “What are you doing?”

Dean shrugged. “Don't know. Didn't plan this out that far.”

There was probably enough room to strangle him. No jury in the world would convict him. “What are you doing _here_?”

“Your phone kept going to voicemail. Thought you might be dead.”

“Almost wish I was. At least then you'd leave me alone.” Seth sighed. “How'd you find me?”

Another shrug. “You said you were on some exit off 63 North. Narrowed it down.”

Seth turned his phone back on to see who else had been looking for him, but the only missed calls were in fact from Dean. That couldn't be a good sign. “Well, you didn't kill me but you probably got me fired, so congratulations there.”

“I don't want you fired, Rollins,” Dean said, sounding almost as tired as Seth felt. “I _want_ to beat you down in front of millions of people. Getting you fired does nothing for me. I'm not even the first guy to steal one of those cases, you're not making sense.” Seth rubbed the heels of his hands against his forehead; the headache was worse than before, a steady drumbeat radiating from the back of his head around to his temples. He felt Dean grab his chin and turn his head around, Dean's brow furrowing as he looked Seth over. “You really pass the concussion check?”

Seth jerked his head out of Dean's grip. “They let me go, didn't they?”

“Yeah, well, either way. You always get loopy when you're knocked around, all the way concussed or not.” Dean grinned. “Remember that one night in Tuscaloosa, after the thing with the chair? Nah, I guess you wouldn't. We must've had the same conversation, like, five times....”

“ _Please_ stop talking.” Seth leaned his head back against the steering wheel, squeezing his eyes shut in the hope that if he couldn't see Dean this all might go away.

“You should go to the hospital. Get checked out.”

Seth shook his head, staying pressed to the wheel. “They'll pull me off TV a week at least, maybe two or three. I got enough problems with you, I don't need more reasons for them to look at me sideways.”

Seth realized he must have fallen asleep again; the next thing he knew was Dean shaking him by his shoulder hard. “Hey. _Hey_.” Seth blinked his eyes open, although it took some doing. “You're not supposed to go to sleep.”

“That's an old wives tale,” Seth muttered, shrugging Dean off.

“Yeah, well. Hard to tell whether you're falling asleep or passing out.”

Seth groaned. “Here's a hint: it's late. I'm tired. Leave me alone.” 

When that didn't make Dean get the hell out of the passenger seat Seth rolled his eyes and tried to start the car. “You're _kidding_ , right?” Dean said, snatching the keys right out of his hand. 

“Give those back. I wanna get back to the hotel.” He made a grab for the keys but Dean held them out of reach; when he tried again Dean opened the window and threw the keys into the tall weeds along the side of the road. “Why'd you do that?”

Dean shrugged. “You would've kept trying to get them back otherwise.”

Seth stared at him as if doing it long enough would force Dean to start thinking like a normal human being. “Do you _want_ to be stuck out here?”

“Hey, I still have my keys.”

“Oh, I got it. You just want me stranded out here.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Congrats Rollins, you got me all figured out.”

“If you expect me to beg you to give me a ride back you'd better settle in. You're gonna wait a long time.”

“Cool with me.” Dean leaned pulled the seat all the way back and propped his feet up on the dash. “Not like it's the worst place I've ever spent the night.”

Seth leaned against the steering wheel again, mostly not to look at Dean anymore. “Feels like that time we ran out of gas in...the hell were we, Montana?” Seth said, the strangeness of sitting alone in a car with Dean Ambrose again after so much time jarring the memory loose. 

“Idaho,” Dean said, the disgust in his voice making Seth laugh.

“Yeah, that's it. The cell signal was so crap Reigns had to head out to find help and like, twenty minutes after he left a blizzard started. Took him hours to get back. You got it into your head that he'd died and I had to tackle you to keep you from going after him.”

“We were both a little hypothermic by then. ”

Seth's hands ached just from remembering how cold it had been in that car. “Yeah, maybe. Reigns was all freaked out when he finally got the tow out to us. Thought we'd frozen to death.” Seth frowned to himself. “Why're we talking about this?”

“I don't know. You brought it up.”

Seth supposed he had. “We always had such shitty luck with cars.” 

“You're slurring again.”

Seth shrugged, closing his eyes. He felt Dean's hand on his shoulder and tried to shove it off. “Stop that.”

“You were nodding off.”

“I _just_ closed my eyes.”

“It was at least ten minutes and it took me two tries to get you up.”

“So what? Quit bothering me and go back to the hotel.” The next time Dean shook him awake Seth managed to cock his fist back before Dean caught his hand. “Stop touching me.”

“What are you, five? _Stop touching me_ ,” Dean said, doing a bad imitation. Dean let his hand go and settled back against the passenger door, still watching Seth. “Sorry for trying to make sure you didn't actually break your head.”

“If I did it's your fault.” Seth arranged himself more comfortably, partly to spite Dean. “Where's my case?”

“It's safe.”

“Figured you would have thrown it in the river by now.”

He didn't like the smile on Dean's face. “Nah. Gotta save something for the cameras, right?”

Seth could only nod. Of course that was his plan. Why wouldn't it be? In Dean's shoes he would be planning the exact same thing. “I don't wanna get fired.” Seth knew that sounded pitiful but it was true. This was it.

“You're not getting fired, Rollins.”

Damn, but whenever Seth thought Dean was the most naïve idiot on the planet he somehow always managed to top himself. “No case means no Plan B. Authority's running out of patience with me as it is, no case means they really won't have a use for me. That's it. Done. Back to Iowa.”

“C'mon. Even Hunter's not a big enough jerk to banish anyone to _Iowa_.”

“Like you care.”

“'Course I care. If I wanna keeping kicking your ass then I'll have to be stuck in Iowa too.”

The next time Seth started drifting he didn't really come all the way back until Dean had him halfway out of the car. “C'mon. C'mon, on your feet,” Dean said, grabbing Seth tight by one arm when his legs buckled. “Walk around a little bit, get your head clear.”

Seth pushed Dean away and trudged up the shoulder of the road, keeping an eye on Dean hovering close behind him. The fresh air _did_ clear his head up, so Seth guessed he owed Dean some thanks for that at least. He took a good look at his surroundings for the first time and pulled up so short Dean ran right into him. “Did you drive here in my fucking car?”

He didn't have to turn his head to see Dean shrug, he could feel it. “Why not? Already had it....”

 _There_ was the opening he'd been watching for. Seth wheeled around and socked Dean clean in the mouth, stopping him mid-word. Dean stumbled back a few steps but recovered quickly enough to duck Seth's next swing; before Seth could pull himself together for another haymaker Dean launched himself forward and wrestled Seth against the side of the car. “We're not doing this now.” Seth almost slipped free again but Dean pinned his wrists down tightly enough for Seth to feel his hands start to numb. “Knock it _off_.”

The pounding in his head had moved behind his eyes. “Let me hit you again and I'll feel better, I promise.”

“You even seeing me right?” Dean let him up and cradled his head, checking his eyes almost the way the trainer had. “You're not focusing.”

It occurred to Seth that his hands were free to take another swing if he wanted. Dean was right though; his eyes weren't working right, and Seth didn't pick fights he couldn't win. He closed his eyes and let himself sag into Dean's grip a little; Seth didn't like to admit it but it felt kind of nice to get fussed over like this. He'd thrown in with the Authority knowing he'd be swimming with sharks but he hadn't realized it would be a constant, twenty-four hour thing. Never stop moving. Don't let them smell blood. Always know that being Plan B meant there were twenty plus plans all lined up to replace you.

Dean was talking again. Seth forced his eyes back open and tried to pay attention. Maybe Dean would slip up and tell him where he'd stashed the case.

“Rollins. Wake the _fuck up_.”

Seth felt himself startle but in a hazy, distant way. Probably medical shouldn't have let him wander off into the night after all. At least he wouldn't be the only one getting fired tonight.

“Seth, if you don't open your eyes right now I'm throwing you in the trunk and dragging your ass to the hospital. I _promise_ you.”

“See? You care.” Seth got his eyes open just in time to catch the perfect look of disgust on Dean's face. “You wouldn't be so mad at me if you didn't care.”

“Shut up.”

Seth didn't realized he'd kissed Dean until he was already in the middle of doing it. He hadn't even thought about doing it. Dean had just been right there and all Seth had needed was to lean forward a little and.... Seth didn't know. It just happened. Which was how that usually happened with him and Dean to be fair, although Seth wouldn't have guessed it would be so easy to fall back into the habit.

Seth didn't really care how it had happened. It felt good. It made the buzzing in his head go down and Seth was all for anything that could make all of this hurt even a little less.

He was surprised when Dean pushed him away. He couldn't remember Dean ever turning him down, no matter how bad an idea saying “sure” might be. Didn't push him hard though - no real force behind it. Only pushed him far enough for there to be less than an inch between them, close enough for him to feel Dean breathing. “What're you doing, Seth?”

“What?” Dean didn't even sound mad, just confused and.... Seth didn't know. _Emotional._ “Not like it's the first time we've done this....”

“Not what I mean. You're not---” This time Seth definitely meant to kiss him. He felt Dean shiver, one of those quick walked-over-your-grave bursts; it took Dean longer to push Seth away this time but he finally did, cradling Seth's head again. “You are not thinking straight.”

“Ambrose, your voice hurts my head.” Seth leaned against him, taking in how fast he was breathing. Fuck, but he had _missed_ this. “C'mon,” he said, teasing the tip of his tongue along the edge of Dean's lip. “No way you're _that_ mad at me.” Seth kept teasing Dean's lips open, staying close enough so that when he spoke Dean would feel his lips move. “C'mon.”

This time when Seth kissed him Dean let out a defeated, deep in his throat moan, shivering hard one more time before pressing Seth back against the car. Seth laughed, sliding one hand into the back pocket of Dean's jeans to pull him even closer. “That's more like it,” Seth said, starting to grind against him. Reigns had told him once he acted drunk when he got knocked around and Seth guessed that made sense because he _felt_ a little drunk. The headache wasn't so bad with Dean's hands on him, retreating into the background like white noise. Seth let the kiss get deep and messy, felt Dean's hands slide up under his shirt in response and leaned back to give him better access. Dean had great hands. Best painkiller Seth had ever taken, bar none.

All of a sudden Dean jolted back, putting his hands flat against the fender of the car. “Hey. What's wrong with you?” Seth said, disappointment blunting the nice rush he'd been riding.

“I can't. This is fucked up.”

Well, that was one for the history books, Dean Ambrose worried about doing the right thing. “Why not? I don't see any cameras around, do you?” Dean wouldn't look at him and Seth crouched a little to catch his eye. “How about we make a deal,” Seth said, sitting up on the hood of the car and shifting Dean's hands back against his hips. “You don't tell the brass about this and neither will I. Scout's honor.” Dean still wouldn't meet his eyes and Seth leaned forward into another kiss in the hope it would loosen him up. Dean didn't kiss back but didn't pull away either, his thumbs stroking along the skin above Seth's waistband like he couldn't help himself. “Remember that one trip when we drove all the way across Kansas and it felt like the fucking state never ended?” He could tell by the way Dean's hands went tighter on his hips that he that he did. That had been early days, Dean with his slicked back hair trying to be the biggest hardass in the company, Reigns off in his own car for reasons Seth didn’t remember from a year out. Seth wasn’t sure when he'd started wondering what Ambrose would look like with all his layers peeled back but that road trip was one of Seth's first good glimpses. “Even with switching off driving the only way we could keep ourselves awake was talking about what we'd do when we got to the hotel.” If Seth hadn't already been hard remembering the look in Dean's eyes when he'd realized Seth hadn't just been BSing would have done it. Seth kept his voice low, talking right into Dean's ear. “Got to the point where we couldn't wait 'til we got back and pulled over. Cops came by while you were blowing me and we had to talk fast and tell them you were down there checking the tires.”

Dean was so close Seth could feel the embarrassed flush creep up over him. “I was so fucking sure we were getting arrested.”

“Hey, we moved into the backseat and I made it up to you, didn't I?” Seth kissed him and this time Dean leaned into him, hands sliding down past his waistband. He felt Dean fumble with the button on his pants for a few seconds and then Seth undid it for him, sliding down from the hood to make all this easier. Seth put himself back in that chilly Kansas night, Dean on his knees, him leaning against that cheap rental that overheated every fifty miles. “What d'ya say we try out this backseat, huh?” Seth said, getting to work on Dean's jeans. “I'm feeling nostalgic.”

“You are....” It took another try for Dean to get his words out. “You're making this really hard.”

“Making what?”

And with that Dean pulled back, splaying his hands flat against the fender of the car again “We're not doing this,” he said, after letting out a long, long breath. “You need to go to the hospital, Seth.”

“I'm not going to any hospital, the hell are you talking about?” Seth tried to kiss him again only for Dean to back away. “What's wrong with you?”

Dean shook his head. “You're not thinking straight,” he said again. Seth was getting _so_ tired of hearing that. “You're not right in the head, no way in hell they should have cleared you. Get in the car, I'll take you back so someone can look at you.”

“I'm not driving anywhere with you.”

“We'll take your stupid car, I don't care, just....”

He grabbed Seth's arm and Seth shoved him back, almost knocking Dean off his feet and stumbling forward a step himself. “I said not to touch me.”

“Givin' out real mixed signals tonight,” Dean muttered, then caught Seth's arm when he took a swing. “ _Stop. That_.”

Seth lost his balance and staggered back against the car, dragging Dean with him. “Hey, easy,” Dean said, half holding Seth up. “You hit your head again?” he said, sounding genuinely a little panicked as he skated his fingers over the back of Seth's skull.

Seth knew he should take advantage of that but he just shook his head. “Got dizzy,” he admitted.

“Well, you're not bleeding, anyway,” Dean said, propping Seth up.

“You love me, don't you.” Seth felt Dean kind of freeze at that, his hands going still on Seth's arms. “Even told me so once, back that night we all got trashed in Colorado Springs. You thought I was asleep, but I wasn't.”

“And everyone acts like _I'm_ the crazy one.”

“You still do. That's why you're _soooo_ mad at me.” Dean tensed up, the same way he did when Seth put a hold on him he couldn't slip out of. Seth always knew he had to be careful when he got Dean to that point because a frustrated Dean Ambrose was a dangerous, unpredictable Dean Ambrose. “I know that's why. Say it.” Seth felt Dean's nails start to dig into his skin. “ _Say it._ ” Seth tried to shove Dean back but couldn't put much oomph behind it. “Coward.”

That hadn't been very careful. For an instant Seth thought Dean was going to forget himself and really deck him, so it was probably for the best his legs chose that moment to go weak under him. He watched Dean's expression change and had just enough time to think _Ha ha, I was right_ before it registered he was falling; he tried to catch himself against the side of the car but Dean was faster, snaking one arm around his waist to keep him upright. “Easy, easy, easy,” Dean said, his heart pounding so hard Seth could feel it through his shirt. “I gotcha. Fuck if I know why.”

“You know why,” Seth mumbled. He gave up the last of his pride and leaned his head against Dean's shoulder. The buzz was gone and the headache was back and his stomach felt like it was trying claw its way up his throat. “I feel so lousy.”

Dean had the nerve to laugh at him. “Yeah, that's the same thing you said last time you got your brains rattled.”

“It's not like I didn't do anything you weren't planning to do yourself.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“C'mon,” Seth said, pushing himself back to lean against the car. “You're pushing this I broke up the Shield's happy family bullshit as hard as you can, but that's never how it was.”

“Yeah? How was it, then?”

Seth couldn't believe Dean had the nerve to sound sarcastic. “How was it? It was Dean Ambrose pushing himself to the front every chance he got. Doing all the talking, like you were Michael Fucking Hayes and the rest of the us Freebirds were supposed to stand there and shut up. ”

“We all got to talk, it was never like that.”

“Bullshit. You were the one always going after singles titles....”

“ _That's_ bullshit. The night I won the US you and Roman won the Tag Titles, that was the _point_. All of having gold at the same time.”

“Funny how you were the one who wound up with the single title though, making sure your name was out there. Why was that, huh? 'Cause I'd been a singles champ before the Shield was even a thought? You think I started jumping off the Titantron because it's fun?”

“Looks fun.”

Seth let that go, he didn't want to admit Dean had him there. “I saw what you were doing and knew I had to get my name out there any way I could. There's only one brass ring in this business and I had to get there first.”

“Seth, calm down.”

“Ugly truth is, you almost broke up the Shield months ago. Everyone in the world knew this was coming, they all just thought _you_ would be the one doing it.” Dean looked like Seth had punched him, the way he'd looked that one Smackdown when Seth had bragged he'd never cared about him. “Is that why you can't let things go? 'Cause you got cold feet and I didn't?”

“I was _never_ gonna break up the Shield.”

“Bull. You got scared.”

“Believe what you want, I don't care right now. Just settle the hell down.”

“See, that's what you do. It's like you think the real world works like the crazy one riding around in your skull. You come _this close_ to ending the team yourself, that's no big deal. I do what you couldn't, I'm the biggest villain there is when we both know that's how this business _works_.” Dean tried to shush him again but Seth shook him off. Letting the words tumble out felt great, like a thousand pound weight floating off his shoulders. “Teams _break up_. And when that happens someone goes right to the top and the other chump gets left behind. I knew my first match I was never gonna be the loser getting kicking out of the Horsemen, I was _not_ gonna be the one getting kicked through any windows....”

Seth was mid-word when Dean kissed him, backing him against the car and completely obliterating his train of thought. “Really need you to settle down,” Dean said, breathing against his lips in a way that was just as distracting as the kiss had been.

“What was that for?”

Dean shrugged. “Best way to cut you off when you get all...ranty like that.” He managed somehow to stand close enough for Seth to feel him breathing without Dean actually looking at him. Dean started to say something but no words came out; finally he just kissed Seth again, his thumb running along the line of Seth's jaw. “I would never have left you behind, Rollins.”

Seth shook his head. “You never listen to me. You never listen to anybody.”

“Yeah, I know. It's a problem I have.”

Seth felt his legs start to get wobbly again and leaned against Dean's shoulder. “My head hurts so bad,” he said, the fight draining back out of him.

“I know, man. I know. You're scaring me a little here, you gotta let me take you to the hospital....”

“No. Shut up about hospitals.”

“Back to the hotel, then.”

“I'll get myself back. And I'm taking my own car.”

He tried to push past but Dean held him still. “Yeah, I'm not letting you drive anywhere right now.”

This time Seth did push him back, a quick shove that sent Dean back a step, but Seth knew that was all he had left in him tonight. He slumped back against the car and rubbed his hands over his face. “Why won't you just leave me alone?”

It was almost like the question caught Dean off guard. “'Cause I can't.” He felt Dean's hands back on his arms, just a light touch that told Seth he looked like he was about to fall over again. “Seth, look at me, okay?” When Seth didn't do it fast enough Dean reached out to tip his chin up. “Listen. You quit fighting me and let me take you somewhere - doesn't have to be a hospital just anywhere so I can keep an eye on you - and I will give you back the case.”

Seth laughed. “Bull- _shit_. Why would you do that?”

“I don't even want the stupid thing. I just wanted to fuck with you. I mean, a ladder match for it would have been cool, don't get me wrong....”

“You said you were gonna throw it in a river.”

Dean sighed. “What part of _I was fucking with you_ are you missing? Forget all that, you can have the case back. It's yours.”

“Take me to it. Wherever you've stashed it, that's the only place I'll go.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. It's at the hotel anyway, just get in the damn car. “

It seemed to be too good to be true. “Why should I believe you?”

“'Cause I'm an idiot. Get in the car.”

“If you're lying I will kill you, I _promise_ you that.”

“Yeah, well. Someone's probably gonna. Might as well be you.” He opened the passenger door and all but shoved Seth inside. “Just don't try to punch me while I'm driving, I don't want you to kill me tonight.”

Right then all Seth felt up to was curling up and possibly dying himself. “I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“Don't do that on me either.”

Seth wasn't sure when they'd started moving. Maybe he'd nodded off again; they were definitely back on the highway and Seth had to squeeze his eyes shut against the glare of high beams coming the opposite way. “This isn't helping.”

“Quit whining.” Still, Dean lowered the sun visor on Seth's side and switched over a lane away from the oncoming traffic. “We got maybe ten minutes, be there before you know it.”

“I just wanna go to sleep. Let me go to sleep.”

Dean gave him that look again, eyes a little too wide under that messy hair. His voice was flip as ever when he answered but Seth noticed his hands squeeze tight around the steering wheel, enough to see white in his knuckles. “First time I can't wake you up there's gonna be an ambulance outside.”

“Told you that's an old wives' tale.”

“I don't care.”

“Only got in the car because you said you wouldn't take me to a hospital.”

“Maybe I lied.”

Seth wasn't too worried about that; Dean had one of the worst poker faces Seth had ever seen, everything in his head came tumbling out of his mouth. Life would probably be easier for Dean if he could tell a lie here and there. “Don't know why you couldn't be cooler about all this. If you'd just laid low, let me cash in, I'd be the guy on top. Could write my own ticket. Once I got solid with Hunter, I could've brought you in, brought Reigns in too, take it all over from the inside. We could've _been_ the Authority.”

“With you as HHH.”

“Someone has to be.”

“You really think for one second I'd go for that?”

“Did I talk it over with you or did I whack you with a chair? Just saying it didn't _have_ to be that way.” Dean was back to angry and not looking him, which Seth guessed was at least closer to normal. It was irrational, but now that he effectively had permission Seth felt nervous closing his eyes; he watched Dean drive instead, the motion of the car starting to lull some of the ache away. For all that Dean dressed like a hobo now Seth wished he'd stopped slicking back his hair when they were still in the Shield. He liked it better this way.

Dean snorted and Seth realized he'd probably said that out loud. “Man, are _you_ gonna be happy you won't remember most of this.” Dean shook his head. “Go ahead, go to sleep if you want. We're almost there and I've gotta figure out how to get us in without the Authority goon squad spotting us.”

Seth hadn't even thought about that. “You're gonna be in so much trouble if they catch you. Everyone'll figure you jumped me.” 

He could feel Dean glare at him. Seth closed his eyes, somehow soothed by the idea that if this was it, at least the last thing he did on Earth would be giving Dean Ambrose a hard time.

***

Someone shoved him awake, _hard_. “Hey. _Hey._ Wake up. We have a deal about this.”

Seth didn't remember what deal Dean was talking about and didn't care, waking up made his head feel like someone had just stuck some C4 in his skull and lit a fuse. When Dean shoved him again Seth groaned and tried to sink deeper into his nice hotel sheets.

“I guess that counts. Just making sure you're alive still.” Seth felt Dean smooth his hair out his face, which at least felt made him feel the tiniest bit better.

“Where's my case?” Seth muttered into the pillow.

Dean's hand jerked back, like he hadn't realized Seth was awake still. Seth wished he hadn't said anything.“Great, _that_ you remember.” He heard Dean sigh. “You'll have it back next check, okay?”

Seth nodded. He held still, hoping Dean would be fooled again but fell back asleep before he could find out if it worked.

***

The TV was on. The TV was on and some guy was getting way, _way_ too excited about mops.

Seth cracked his eyes open; the curtains were open but the room was still dark aside from the dim light from the TV, but that was enough to make out Dean sprawled in the desk chair looking fascinated by absorbency rates. “So fucking sick of your insomnia.”

Dean glanced at him over his shoulder. “Hey, ahead of schedule this time.”

Seth didn't know what Dean meant and didn't care. He'd long ago lost track of how many times Dean had woken him up by watching some Godforsaken thing at three AM. He pressed one of the pillows over his head to try to drown out the noise; Dean didn't have the volume up very high but Seth's head still pounded in time to the informercial's hideous music. “Get back in bed already.”

Seth felt like it took Dean a beat too long to respond to that. “What day do you think it is?”

Seth realized he wasn't sure. He _was_ reasonably sure there'd been a taping the night before, so that narrowed it down. “Tuesday?”

Dean sighed. “I think you're actually getting worse.” He ripped the pillow from Seth's head and poked him hard on one shoulder. “C'mon. Open up.”

Seth opened his eyes again and saw Dean crouched by the side of the bed. Dean waved one hand in front of Seth's face, like he wanted Seth to track, then he leaned against the mattress and stared at Seth's eyes for a few seconds before shrugging. “Hell if I know, I'm not a doctor. Be nice if you'd let me call one.”

“I'm fine,” Seth said, closing his eyes again. He tried to roll over but realized his right hand was heavier than it should be. He jerked his arm again and heard metal on metal, like a chain. “Am I handcuffed to the bed?”

“You're cuffed to something, yeah.”

“... _Why?_ ”

“You asked me to.”

Seth tried hard to force that into some kind of sense before giving up. He was still dressed, so even it had been his idea they hadn't had much fun with it. “Might as well undo it, I don't think it's happening tonight.”

“Wish I'd known you'd be up for that kind of thing a year ago.” He let out that little sigh again. “Can't wait until you remember that you hate my guts again.”

That didn't make a whole lot of sense to Seth, but he didn't always expect sense from Dean. “Just shut up and come back to bed.”

There was that strange little beat again before Dean responded. “Seth, ask me that when you can spell your own name again and I'll think about it.” Dean let out a hard breath. “Fuck, that's pathetic.”

“You're talking even crazier than normal. You know that, right?” He snatched the pillow back from Dean and burrowed under it. “Your lip's swollen, what happened?”

“Someone punched me in the mouth.”

That rang a very distant bell for Seth. He had the brief flash of standing opposite Dean on the side of some road and felt the ghost rush of old adrenaline. “Feel like you deserved it.”

“Of course you do.”

Seth felt himself drifting off again and forced himself to stay awake. Dean was hovering and his head ached and he didn't remember why. None of those were great signs. “Am I okay?”

Seth felt Dean move the pillow off his face and cracked his eyes back open; Dean looked ragged, eyes bloodshot. “I'm not letting you check out before Summerslam, Rollins. Quit worrying about that.”

Seth let his eyes close. “Come back to bed,” he muttered again, his limbs already getting heavy. Dean paused for that strange little beat again, then Seth felt the bed dip as Dean stretched out next to him.

“You happy now?”

And yeah, Seth was. “Always get what I want, Ambrose. You know that.”

“Yeah, you make sure I do.” Dean's voice was flat and tired. “Go back to sleep.”

“Turn off the TV.”

That got a snort from Dean. “No. I’m having a hard enough time staying awake with it on. Forgot what a pain in the ass babysitting you all night is.”

“No one’s got a gun to your head.” Seth pulled the comforter up to at least block out the light from the TV; the headache had dropped back to a dull throb but he felt nauseous and woozy on top of it, almost like being seasick. “This is a bad one, huh?”

Seth heard a tired half-laugh out of Dean. “Don't know what idiot in Medical gave you the all-clear but I hope they're not working on me next time I get fucked up. Better off fending for myself.”

Seth tried to piece together the past few hours but all he got were a few disjointed images - the side of an unfamiliar road, leaning against the steering wheel of a car he didn't recognize. “The hell did I do tonight?”

“Starred in a PSA on why you shouldn't drive while concussed.”

Well. _That_ sounded bad. “I crack up my car?”

“Nah. Wasn't even your car, there's still a rental sitting on the side of the road somewhere. Figure the Authority's good for picking up that bill.”

Seth wasn't so addled that he couldn't read between the lines there. “Thanks for coming after me.”

Dean let out a long sigh. “This is all easier when you're being a huge asshole. I'm out of practice at this, I know how to react to you being an asshole.” Seth heard another sigh, then the TV went off. “Go back to sleep, it'll be morning soon.”

“Don't tell anyone what happened. They'll make me get checked out, it'll screw everything up.”

“Yeah, I'm not telling _anyone_ what went down tonight, trust me. And I want you at Summerslam as much as you want to be there.”

That did trigger a quick, sketchy memory. “Did I make a pass at you?”

“Shut up.”

“Why? I lose my touch?”

“One more word and I will _smother_ you.”

“If you were gonna do that you wouldn't have come after me.” Seth knew Dean well enough to be able to tell from how the bed shifted that Dean had just crossed his arms in a huff. “Why did you?”

“I don't know,” Dean said, and Seth could also tell that was the God's honest truth. “You were full of answers before. You tell me.”

“Should've listened to me, then,” Seth muttered. The drowsiness was starting to wrap back around him. “Was always the smart one.”

Seth felt the pillow drop back over his head but without any pressure, so if Dean was following through on his threat he was doing a half-assed job of it. “Just go back to sleep.”

Fun as it was to poke Dean, Seth could already feel himself drifting. Just before he went completely back under he had another quick memory flash - him leaning against his car with his clothes half undone and Dean backing off him. _“You're not thinking straight.”_

Seth hoped when he woke up again he'd remember to ask what Dean would have done if he had been.

***

_Bang._

Seth almost startled right off the bed. He held still for a second, trying to figure out if he’d actually heard that sound or just dreamed it. He didn’t recognize the room until hazy, disconnected memories filtered through - being shoved onto a bed, a too-loud TV, cringing away from the bedside lamp and it immediately turning off.

_“Don’t make me fucking regret doing this.”_

_“Said you already regretted it.”_

_“God, Rollins, just shut up.”_

Seth looked around but he was alone in the room; the curtains were drawn against what looked like at least mid-morning sun and the desk chair shoved all the way back, like someone had been using it to sit leaning against the wall and forgot to put it back.

_Bang bang._

Someone was _definitely_ at the door, though. Before Seth could answer he heard another, lighter knock and then Hunter’s voice carry through the door. “Seth? You, um…you in there?”

Seth glanced at the time and realized he’d overslept the morning check-in by over an hour. “Yeah, yeah I’m here, I’m up.” He hissed as pain throbbed through his head when he moved but it was manageable enough, and much more importantly he didn’t feel woozy or dizzy. “Gimme a minute.”

“Oh, good. Good to hear.” Seth could all but see the expression on Hunter’s face, the relief coming through the door was so palpable. Considering the company history he supposed it made sense that radio silence the day after a head injury would raise some red flags, and Hunter coming himself meant it had been a hell of a big flag. 

Seth couldn’t help smiling to himself. He’d have to make sure to leverage this somehow.

He pushed himself up and almost overbalanced from something heavy hanging from his right wrist; Seth lifted his arm and realized his briefcase was handcuffed to his wrist.

_“See? You have the stupid thing back now.”_

_“No. No, not good enough. You'll just run off with it again.”_

_“I'm not gonna do that **tonight**.”_

_“I wanna be sure you're not stealing it again.”_

_“Know what? **Fine.** ”_

_“...why do you have handcuffs in your bag?”_

_“You can grab all kinds of souvenirs from those hardcore matches.”_

_“Why didn't you ever mention you had those?”_

_“...Rollins, I **cannot deal** with you like this.”_

He'd been quiet too long; he heard Hunter's voice again through the door. “Seth, I'm gonna come in. You, uh, you're decent, right?”

The boss was off his game - they _had_ been worried about him. _Good._ “Yeah, c'mon.” He managed to push himself to sitting on the edge of the bed by the time Hunter poked his head inside; Seth's head swam a little bit with the movement but it went away after a few seconds. Not bad. Probably had a few days of that to look forward to, but not bad.

Hunter had the broad, fake smile of a man who'd spent the past few hours wondering if he was going to be hit with a lawsuit. “Hey, kid. You ran off last night, got us all a little worried.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe your guys in medical shouldn't have let me go then.”

“Oh, don't worry, there's going to be a meeting about that.” No mistaking that tone. Seth wondered if Hunter had perfected his McMahon _You're Fired_ impression yet. Maybe he'd let the wife do it. “They told me you probably had a concussion. You want to get checked out...?”

“Nah, I'm good. I just want to get back to work.”

That got a smile from Hunter; this was a man who'd once finished a match with his quadricep completely detached from his leg - if anyone was going to appreciate working through an injury, it would be him. “We'll take it easy on you for a few days, make sure you're up to speed. How much do you remember?”

Seth paused for a moment, making a show of trying to think, then shook his head. “Bit and pieces. It’s all pretty fuzzy still.”

Hunter nodded to the case cuffed to Seth's wrist. “I see you got that back.”

Seth lifted his arm. “Wanted to make sure I didn't lose track of it again. That a problem?”

“No, it's good initiative. Could have saved it for the cameras, though.”

“Didn't want to take the risk. Who knows what that lunatic would have done with it, right?”

“Hey, speaking of – someone told me he spotted Ambrose wandering around with a fat lip this morning. You have something to do with that?”

“Not like he was going to give it back out of the goodness of his heart, right?” The words rankled more than he’d expected and Seth kept his expression very neutral. This was going too well - no need to invite any questions. “No offense, but do you mind? My head’s kind of….”

He didn’t finish the sentence, just mimed that _Fuck, my head’s about to explode_ gesture everyone seemed to pick up about a year into the business, and Hunter gave him what looked like a genuinely commiserating grin. “Hey, don’t have to tell me, I’ve been there. Rest up. I’ll send someone around when it’s time to head for the airport.”

Seth let Hunter escape back into the hallway, stretched out flat on the bed and massaged his fingertips into his temples. He knew he _should_ get up and be around people, just to be safe – forty-eight hours was the usual rule of thumb for concussions – but fuck it, he just didn’t have that in him yet. And, thrilled as he was to have his case back, he did still have to figure out a way to get this thing off his wrist.

The text alert on his phone chimed. Seth fumbled it off the nightstand on the second try and scrolled through the list of missed messages; most of them came in after he’d slept through check in, and apparently two calls, a nice little tour going up the road hierarchy until the missed call from Hunter about ten minutes before his visit. Would have been nicer if the concern had come the night before, but hey, better late than never.

But this newest message was from Dean.

Dean: keys in the drawer. & I want the cuffs back

He hadn’t really lied, most of the previous night _was_ pretty fuzzy. Really not much more than quick, contextless flashes of endless dark highway, a bright light shining in his eyes, all swirled together with pain and anxious adrenaline.

That flush of satisfaction from when he got lucky and popped Dean in the mouth.

Dean breathing hard right up against his lips, the two of them pressed so tight against that car Seth could feel his heart pounding.

Seth stared at his phone for a few seconds, tapping one nail against the side of the screen.

Seth: Come get em then

Dean didn't seem to have a comeback for that. After waiting a minute to see if Dean would come up with a response Seth put the phone back on the nightstand and fished the key out of the drawer. It took a few seconds of fighting with the flimsy key to get free but he was finally able to stash his case safely under the bed and stretch back out. His head had started throbbing again and just the thought of getting up made Seth want to die. He rolled the chain of the cuffs through his fingers and closed his eyes, pushing past the nuisance headache to focus much more fun things.

Things like Dean's thumbs stroking along the skin above his waistband and all the things they could do with these handcuffs once Dean broke and tried to get them back.

***

_Seth grabs a fistful of Dean’s shirt and pulls him into the backseat; the cop car’s lights aren’t even all the way out of sight but Seth’s legs are jelly and it’s a choice of either collapsing in the backseat or right there on the pavement. Dean’s shaky with adrenaline too, laughing and cursing with his lips pressed right against Seth’s neck, a stream of holyshitholyshitholy **shit**._

_Seth leans his head back and tries to will his own shakes away; his heart feels like it’s about to come right out of his chest. “Oh. Oh man. That’s not a call I wanted to make back to Corporate.”_

_Dean laughs again, a long shaky breath capping it off. “We'd have been out on our asses. Poor Roman would've gotten to the hotel and the agents would all pretend no one had ever heard of us.” He props himself up on his elbows and Seth likes how that settles Dean's weight across his hips. “How the hell did that cop come up on us so fast?”_

_“We were a little distracted.” Seth runs his hands over his face, laughing himself now. That sets Dean off again and he collapses against Seth’s chest, his shoulders shaking. Dean’s pressed so tight against him that Seth’s all the way hard again; he rolls his hips to ease the tension a little, tracing his fingers up Dean’s spine in a way that makes him shiver. “I can’t believe how fast your heart’s going right now.”_

_“Thought it was gonna stop when that cop rolled up.”_

_“Can't have that.” Seth's breathing is already rough; he was so close to coming when they were interrupted and it's not taking any time to get back there. “Got a show coming up. Can't let you check out before then.”_

_Seth likes how the corners of Dean’s eyes crinkle up when he smiles. He’s not sure why this is the first time he’s noticed that. Maybe he’s never seen Ambrose really smile before. Seth leans up and kisses him, catching him by surprise, mouth open. Dean settles between Seth's legs right where Seth wants him, one hand tight in Seth's hair as he kisses Seth down into that backseat...._

Seth woke with a start, sweaty and so tangled up in the sheets his arm was numb. He rolled himself over and counted the squares in the ceiling pattern while he flexed the circulation back into his hand, getting up to fifty-one before the post-concussion headache started creeping back, a dull drumbeat starting behind his eyes and radiating around to his temples. Not so bad. Slower than it had come back the night before. He knew from experience it usually took about a week all the various aftereffects to clear up and this was all going right on schedule. Besides, headaches he could handle. Pain came with the territory, he’d known that when he’d signed his first contract.

This hyper-vivid dreaming _bullshit_ though, _that_ he was more than done with.

Seth rolled half over and fished those handcuffs out of his duffel under the bed. Three nights in a row of waking up hard in the middle of the night was starting to drive him a little crazy, and the worst part of all of it was his head hurt just enough to keep him from taking care of it himself. He spun the handcuffs on his fingers for a few seconds, counting backward to distract himself enough to get _some_ sleep tonight.

 _Yeah, that's not working._ Seth tossed the cuffs back into his bag and grabbed his phone; a week ago he would have called Dean Ambrose leaving him alone for three days a slice of heaven but now the radio silence grated. He'd thought Dean would be able to keep himself from responding for a few hours, a day at the absolute most. Dean didn't let things go, it wasn't in him. Or at least Seth would have sworn to that three days ago; if Dean really had decided to start turning down dares he'd picked a _really_ inconvenient time for it.

Seth stared at his phone until the screen went dark. 

Choices had consequences. Seth had always been good with that, perks of being with the Authority were too good to make looking back worth it. It was like the concussion had knocked something loose in his head; every time he closed his eyes his thoughts got away from him, not so much intrusive images as intrusive _sensations_ : fast, hot breathing up against his lips, shaking hands sliding past his waistband. 

Seth woke up his phone and stared at it until it shut down again, his chest twisting tight. If Dean was playing chicken with him, Seth had to win. He should be dying of shame just for _thinking_ about cracking first. It didn't matter that he was averaging two hours of good sleep a night. He just had to tough this out. Dean's patience would run out and then the knowledge he'd outlasted Ambrose would make everything even sweeter. It was Dean's fault he was even in this situation - Seth would be damned if he would let Dean hurt him this bad and make him crawl on top of it.

The argument didn't make his head hurt any less but Seth held onto it tight anyway.

***

That resolve didn't last.

The next day was stuffed full of appearances, an autograph signing and promos and an early interview at one of those godawful morning shows. By the time Hunter took some pity and let him drag himself back to the hotel Seth was so tired he fell asleep in his clothes, his whole body aching instead of just his head.

When even with all that he still woke up around midnight Seth grabbed for his phone before his eyes were even all the way open. Pride was great when he could afford the luxury; all Seth had left in him tonight was not spending one more night hard and hurting in an empty bed.

Seth: U up?

The minutes waiting for a reply scraped by like sandpaper.

Seth: I know you're up. You're always up.

Seth had almost given up when his alert finally chimed.

Dean: what

Seth tapped one finger rapid-fire against the side of the phone, trying to figure out what the hell to say.

Seth: Said u wanted ur cuffs back.

This time the reply came faster.

Dean: dont care. keep em

_You miserable son of a bitch._ Seth fought the urge to chuck the phone against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to will himself back to sleep.

It didn't work.

Seth: U really gonna make me spell my name?

It felt like a few lifetimes crawled by before the alert came again.

Dean: what game are you playing Rollins

Dean: know what don't care. going to sleep

Dean had picked a _really_ inconvenient time to learn discipline. Seth felt his stomach slowly curl into a knot as he stared at the screen.

Seth: Having a rough night

Dean: why is that still my problem?

Well. That wasn't a no.

Seth: door's open

Seth put the phone down and massaged his fingertips into his temples, not sure the last time he was so wrung out. If Dean wanted any more pounds of flesh out of him tonight was was going to have to come and get them himself.

***

About twenty minutes later Seth heard the door creak open. He hadn't bothered to turn off the lights and he opened his eyes to Dean Ambrose standing half in the open doorway, looking about the way Seth felt. “Took you long enough.”

He had never seen a look of purer loathing than the one on Dean's face right now, although as he closed the door behind him Seth wasn't sure whether that look was directed at ,him or back at Dean himself. “You look like crap,” Dean said. “You've looked like crap all day.” Seth didn't answer. Dean stared him down some more, then paced the room for a few passes before dropping down into a chair, his eyes locking back on Seth's face. “You got so much nerve. calling me.”

Seth didn't rise to that bait either. Dean didn't look like he'd been doing a whole lot of sleeping the past few days himself, which did go a ways toward making Seth feel better; Dean finally looked down toward the floor, nervous energy making his leg bounce. He moved like he was getting back up but then changed his mind, doing that thing where he tried to rake his hair back only to wind up with most of it still in his face anyway.

Seth hadn't moved since Dean stepped into the room, had made a point of not, and he could tell it was making Dean a little nuts. He glared daggers at Seth and started to pace again, his mouth turned down enough that Seth knew there was a really good chance that the next time he stopped moving he was going to throw the desk lamp right at Seth's head.

Seth almost didn't care if he did. This game wasn't fun anymore. “Ambrose, you coming back to bed or not?”

That froze Dean mid-step. Seth watched Dean's self-control flake away second by second; he tried to stare Seth down again but the hard anger from before was gone and he couldn't clench his hands fast enough to hide the quick tremor. Finally Dean closed his eyes and let out a quick, hard breath, running one hand back through his hair. “You're the worst pain in the ass when you're hurt, I swear to God.”

Seth let himself smile. Maybe the game was still a little fun. “Didn't call you so you could talk me to death.”

Dean's eyes narrowed, a hint of that crazy sneer back on his face as he knelt on the edge of the bed and sized Seth up like he was setting him up for that elbow drop he liked so much. _That_ was more like it. Not really anger but just a little bit of an edge. Seth closed his eyes as Dean leaned over him, his heart starting to beat fast and hard against his breastbone. He'd never admit it but a part of Seth liked that he was never _really_ sure what Dean Ambrose was about to do. It meant he was a bitch and a half to deal with as an opponent but that was what had made him so valuable in the Shield. If even Seth didn't know what Dean had in mind, then no one taking them on had any shot at it.

It had been a long time since he'd had Dean looming over him like this, not sure what he was about to do. Felt like jumping off the Titantron but even better.

Dean still hadn't touched him. Seth kept still and sprawled on his side, working to keep his breathing even. He hadn't realized that after all this time Dean could still get him hard without even touching him, and he didn't want Dean to know that yet either.

Without warning Dean rolled him to his back, practically shoving him to the middle of the bed. Seth felt Dean straddle him, just the same way he would if he'd gotten the upper hand in the ring and was about to smack Seth in the face a few times before the ref could drag him off. Maybe Dean was about to punch him now, too. Even back when Dean liked him Seth hadn't always been one-hundred percent sure if Dean was about to clock him or kiss him sometimes. Usually it was kiss, and the handful of times Seth had guessed wrong they'd gotten around to kissing pretty quick anyway, but that friendly sparring phase was long gone. He felt Dean's hand press flush against his throat, his thumb lined right up against the pulse point and fought the urge to hold his breath. “You nervous, Rollins?” Seth knew Dean was intentionally keeping his voice low, exaggerating the rasp, and goosebumps broke out up and down Seth's arms. He regretted ever telling Dean how much he liked that. “Heart's going a mile a minute.” 

Dean stroked his thumb against the side of Seth's neck, drawing almost thoughtful lines on Seth's skin. He slowly worked his way up to trace the line of Seth's jaw, drawing out a split-second flashback of that fuzzy night by the side of the road. Seth's breath caught and he could tell Dean had noticed; he started tracing just under Seth's lower lip, scraping his nail along the edge to tease Seth's lips open. Dean rocked his weight back against Seth's hips as he knelt up and Seth hoped it wasn't too obvious how incredible that felt. It probably was obvious, he felt that tremor back in Dean's hands before before Dean got himself under control. Seth felt breathing against his lips as Dean leaned over him again, quick, ragged breaths like Dean was three seconds away from losing it during a promo. “Where the hell do you get off even remembering my number?”

Seth knew that tone. Dean was definitely leaning toward punching him. 

Well, there were ways around that. Seth didn't have to open his eyes to know how close Dean was, all Seth needed to do was tip his chin up to find Dean's lips. He felt Dean's lips part without any further prompting and guessed that had been a good enough answer.

Dean sounded a little breathless when he finally pulled back. “You think you're pretty good at that, don't you.”

Seth cracked a smile. He was _very_ good at that.

Dean let out a soft huff of breath, something Seth thought would have been a laugh a few months before, then he grabbed a tight fistfull of Seth's hair as he tried his best to kiss Seth right through the mattress. Dean was a messy kisser, sloppy and full of tongue and this was so much better than any of the painkillers the company quacks had made him try over the past few days. Dean started in on his shirt, ripping two of the buttons loose when he couldn't undo them fast enough. “Watch it,” Seth said, pulling back just enough to breathe. “That shirt costs....”

Dean nipped at his lower lip to shut him up and Seth let it go. He had more shirts. He didn't even really like that shirt. Dean ripped it the rest of the way open and trailed just his fingertips down Seth's chest, pressing his palm against Seth's stomach like he was feeling him breathe. 

Seth didn't like this new, taking-his-time Dean. The guy didn't have the patience to let him walk to the ring nine times out of ten, Seth didn't know where this was coming from. Dean's weight shifted as he leaned over Seth again and Seth couldn't stop himself from clutching at the sheets for an instant. That _did_ draw a laugh from Dean; Seth felt him trace along the line of his collarbone and around the hollow of his throat and Seth took the opportunity to slide his hands under Dean's shirt. “Your hands are freezing,” Dean said.

Set liked the way Dean shivered as he said that. “Well _do_ something about it, then.” Seth pulled Dean's shirt over his head and tossed it across the room, trailing his hands up Dean's spine until he shivered again. “Quit bitching.”

Dean peeled Seth's hands away and pinned his wrists down to the bed with enough force that Seth was sure those cuffs were going to come out after all. Maybe they would have, Seth didn't know; the movement jostled him just the right way to send one of those quick jolts of pain that he'd been so good at avoiding all day lancing through his head. He felt Dean go tense, his hands coming up like Seth had caught fire. “You okay?”

“Fine, fine,” Seth said, kneading the heels of both hands into his forehead. “Comes and goes.”

Dean moved Seth's hands away again, much more gently than last time. “I really rang your bell, huh?” Dean said. Seth felt Dean's thumb trace along his hairline for a second as Dean leaned back over him. “Forgot why I was here for a second.”

This time his tone made Seth squirm. He hadn't heard Dean talk to him that way since...well, since the night after Payback. It was almost enough to make Seth worry this was another one of those stupid dreams.

Then Dean started kissing him again and Seth gave up caring. Slow, thorough kissing that got Seth worked up and panting in no time, like he was a meal Dean was determined to savor. Seth guessed he could get used to this new side to Dean. Maybe he should hit people with chairs more often. 

Dean stretched out on top of him, one thigh pressing right between Seth's legs and Seth felt that race all the way up his spine. He arched up, not really grinding but just enjoying that nice, steady pressure. “You're usually not so hard up for this, Rollins,” Dean said, the words half-muffled as he started to kiss his way down Seth's neck. 

“Been havin' a week.” Seth started rolling his hips, just enough to set a slow rhythm. Dean teasing him with no hostility in his voice was weird but felt good in a way Seth didn't want to think about very much. He'd forgotten how much he'd liked that when it wasn't coupled with Dean trying to kill him or humiliate him in front of huge crowds. “What'd I say about talking me to death?”

Dean chuckled at that and guided Seth's hands past his waistband, direction Seth had absolutely no problem taking. Seth undid the button on Dean's jeans and slid jeans and underwear both past his hips, pressing his palms flat against the newly exposed bare skin. Dean heated up like a furnace, he always had and that felt almost good enough to make Seth regret some decisions.

Dean started kissing his way down Seth's chest and Seth felt all the tension he'd been carrying the past few days start to melt away under Dean's lips. The ache radiating all day from the back of his head had already almost muted into nothing; Seth let himself go loose and relaxed, shutting out everything that didn't involve Dean's lips and tongue and hot breath against his skin. He cracked his eyes open to watch Dean working him over, grinning when Dean caught his eye and then looked away. At least not everything had changed; Dean could perform in front of thousands of people without blinking but get almost _shy_ when Seth watched him. Which was tough for Dean, because Seth had always enjoyed the view too much to give it up.

Dean eased Seth out of the last of his clothes, running his hands over Seth's bare thighs as he went back to work. He tongued down the line of Seth's hip, stopping to suck hard on a spot where the mark wouldn't show on TV. That had been a favorite game back in the Shield days, playing chicken with the cameras. “Didn't think you'd still be into tagging me.”

“Either you want me to talk or you don't, Rollins.” Dean's eyes crinkled at the corners as they flicked back up for a second, taking the sting out of the words. Before Seth could start to worry that him being so nice meant something bad was coming Dean spread Seth's legs open, the calluses on Dean's fingers against his inner thighs making Seth shiver. The next time Dean caught Seth's gaze he held it, staring right into Seth's eyes as he licked his slow way up Seth's shaft. Dean kept staring a hole through Seth while he licked around the head of Seth's cock and Seth refused to look away. If Dean wanted to play this Seth sure as hell wasn't going to back down.

The corners of Dean's eyes crinkled again and Seth knew the challenge had been accepted. Without another second of stalling or even so much as taking a breath Dean deep throated him, eyes staying locked right on Seth's face. Seth managed to keep up his end of the staring contest but couldn't keep back the quick groan Dean pulled out of him. Dean had him gasping in seconds; the first time they'd done this out by the side of that road had been a _revelation_ \- Seth didn't know who'd taught Dean how to give blowjobs but Seth wanted to hand them a goddamn medal. He tried to keep the eye contact with Dean but it was a losing battle and Seth knew it; every time Dean got him to moan or whimper or make any sound at all he put that much more effort into taking Seth apart. Seth just didn't want stop looking at those blue eyes of Dean's until he absolutely had to but every flick of Dean's tongue brought Seth a little closer to unraveling.

Finally Seth conceded defeat and collapsed back against the mattress, hands over his face as he tried to keep from keep from shaking apart. “Oh God,” he whispered. “Oh God, _fuck_.” Seth _felt_ Dean laugh at him, the vibration sending little sparks in front of his eyes. Dean deliberately slowed down his rhythm and Seth groaned, arching up enough that Dean held his hips down. “Finish me off already,” Seth said, hoping that didn't sound too much like begging.

Dean laughed at him again, pulling up with a final flick of his tongue that almost made Seth come then and there. He kissed Seth's stomach as he pushed himself to his knees, then wiped his mouth as he took a second to catch his breath. “You still keep stuff in the right front pocket?”

Seth nodded, trying to get his own breathing back under control. He closed his eyes as he heard Dean rummage through his bag for a few seconds and shuck off what was left of his own clothes; when the bed dipped back under Dean's weight he could feel Dean watching him and stretched out to encourage it. He worked too hard to have anything to be ashamed of and there were few things better than when Dean's eyes got big and hungry the way they were now. Dean physically shook himself out of that and leaned back over Seth, the heat from the skin contact all but shutting off Seth's brain and the way Dean kissed him finishing the job. Dean knelt back between Seth's legs, teasing his fingers up Seth's shaft. “You feel like moving at all?”

And no, Seth didn't really care for that idea. “Pretty comfortable here. Quit wasting time.”

Dean chuckled at that and Seth felt the cold bite of lube. “Fine with me.” Dean looped one of Seth's legs over his shoulder and kissed his stomach again, taking a deep breath before sliding that first inch or two inside Seth.

Seth felt his eyelids flutter and arched his back into it immediately; he never needed that much prep anyway and tonight he was so relaxed he though could have taken Dean all the way without blinking. “You good?” Dean asked, his voice shaking just enough to _do_ things to Seth. 

“Gonna _beat you to death with my briefcase_ if you don't keep going.”

“Not all about you, Rollins,” Dean said, laughing at him again. 

When he'd eased himself all the way in Dean let out a breathless little groan that Seth had been hearing that in his dreams for _days_ now. “I knew you'd missed me,” Seth said, unable to resist pressing his luck. Before Dean could gather himself together enough to make him pay for that Seth pulled him down into another messy kiss, wrapping his free leg around Dean's waist to get him as close as possible. Dean propped himself up and Seth let him set the rhythm, happy to lay back and lose himself. He couldn't feel anything except Dean moving inside him, sweat on his skin, pressure pooling in his groin and that was all he'd wanted for days now. He grabbed onto Dean's arms, digging his nails in to urge him faster and Dean's breathing went ragged. Dean was close but Seth was closer and when Dean leaned forward to kiss him again Seth went right over the edge, the force of the orgasm rocking his head back. Sensation raced down his legs and up his spine all the way to his fingertips; Seth let himself go limp as he reveled in the aftershocks, Dean kissing the holy hell out of him as he came too, shaking and cursing against Seth's lips, and Seth thought he could come again just from that.

Seth nodded off for a few seconds; when he came back to Dean was wrapped around him him, fingers threaded through his hair again. “You feel better?” Seth nodded, still too breathless to speak. “Good,” he said, kissing Seth's cheek. “If ring your bell, I want to be because I _meant_ to do it.”

Seth supposed that made sense coming from Dean. “We forgot about the cuffs,” he muttered, already half-asleep.

“Next time.”

Seth wasn't sure Dean realized what he'd just promised. He pulled Dean into a more comfortable position on top of him, reveling in not feeling miserable for the first time in days. “Don't sneak out. I'm not sleeping good.”

Dean kissed him again. “I remember how this goes, Rollins.”

Seth nodded again. Dean always had been good at this part.

***

When Seth woke a few hours later it wasn't with the same jolt of the past few days, no frustrating dreams or exhaustion. He could feel the first hint of the headache lurking behind his eyes but as it built he felt Dean kiss him, drowning it out. “Shh,” Dean said, his voice and the warmth of Dean being wrapped around him lulling Seth back to sleep before he was even all the way awake. “Go back to sleep, we got a few hours yet. No airport today.”

Seth nodded. “We should go for a drive tonight. Pull over to the side of the road. We're in Kansas, it'd be like old times.”

Dean went tense. It took awhile before he answered and when he did there was a very un-Ambrose shake to his voice. “How bad do you hate me, Rollins?” Stripped away and hollow, like Seth had peeled him to the core without even trying this time.

Seth sighed. Dean could get kind of maudlin in the middle of the night sometimes. “I don't hate you, Ambrose. You or Reigns, you got it the wrong way around. I just want the two of you to let me do my thing. You're the one making this hard on yourself.”

“Yeah? How's that?”

Seth opened his eyes; Dean was staring down at him, dark enough circles bruised under his eyes to make Seth wonder if he'd stayed up watching him. “So is this you saying no or what?” Dean looked away, that muscle in his jaw twitching. “Be better for you if you _would_ leave me the hell alone, we keep telling you that.”

Seth couldn't read the expression on Dean's face. “Guess you don't remember.”

“Remember what?”

“You asked me that when you went on your joyride. Why I won't.” 

“Yeah? What'd you say?”

Dean shook his head, his eyes not quite meeting Seth's before he leaned over and kissed Seth so hard he couldn't breathe until Dean pulled back.“Go back to sleep.”

“C'mon. Tell me.”

“Should have remembered.”

He wondered if there was an answer of if this was just Dean Ambrose being Dean Ambrose. “If you'd just learn to back down....” Dean kissed him before he could get out another word, and curious as Seth was this felt better than pushing the question. He was getting tired of forcing his eyes to stay open anyway. “So we going on that drive or not?” he murmured. He should at least force at least _one_ solid answer from him. 

“Just go to sleep.”

Seth closed his eyes, willing his breathing deep and even. After a few quiet minutes the bed creaked, Dean's weight shifting to the edge of the bed. Another minute or so and Seth heard him get up entirely, then the rustle of clothes against skin, a few seconds of pacing and the click of the hotel door opening. 

Seth counted off almost a full minute before the door closed again. More pacing, at least two or three minutes of it this time, then the sudden, unmistakable sound of someone punching a wall. 

It took every scrap of willpower Seth had not to hold his breath. The bed dipped as Dean sat on the edge again and there was nothing but silence for a few very long minutes. 

Then Seth heard the rustle of clothes again and the soft thud of boots being kicked off. He felt Dean's fingers thread through his hair, skating over the aching knot on the back of his head just lightly enough not to hurt, then Dean wrapped back around him. The sudden warmth of skin on skin made Seth sigh and he covered by pretending to wake up. “Mmm?”

“Nothing. Didn't mean to wake you back up.”

Seth nodded. “Thought I heard something.”

“I...I dropped something. Don't worry about it.”

“Okay.” Seth was right on the verge of falling asleep for real; Dean's arm tightened around his waist as Seth leaned back, trying to get as much skin contact as possible. “My head hurts again,” Seth murmured, the words slipping out in drowsy haze.

“Shh.” Dean kissed the curve of Seth's neck. “Back to sleep.”

“Answer.”

Seth heard that bitter, half-laugh half-sigh, then Dean kissed him again, lips pressing against his temple. “You got my number.”

Seth wondered if Dean had meant to word it like that.

Calling Dean again would be a bad idea. Risky in a way Seth tried not to be - honestly couldn't _afford_ to be - but he knew that if he was sleepless and hurting in twenty-four hours it was a risk he was going to take. He could afford one little bad habit, at least for a little while.

Especially since he was sure the answer on the other end of that call wasn't going to be no.

Seth let Dean's breathing lull him all the way to back to sleep and looked forward to dreaming about finding himself on the side of a lonely country road deep in the dead of night.


End file.
